


forward

by asexuelf



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Autism, Autistic Fenris (Dragon Age), Drabble, Dragon Age II Quest - A Bitter Pill, Established Relationship, M/M, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, Stimming, this is so tiny :0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 01:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23001283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: A different take on a Bitter Pill. Set moments after Hadriana's death.
Relationships: Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 59





	forward

**Author's Note:**

> just a little dooble while i get back into the swing of writing for da
> 
> hope you enjoy! 💖

The battle is over and things should be easier. Hadriana is dead and things _should be easier_.

Anders holds a hand over his eyes and takes a deep breath, ignoring for the most part the stench of blood and death. It's been a few minutes since he turned around and gave Fenris the privacy of his back so the elf could calm himself, but he can no longer ignore the way the man is wheezing around panicked inhales. Standing around as Hawke and Isabela lift valuables from Hadriana's corpse has been fun and all, but his man comes first.

When he turns, he flinches.

Before, Fenris was flapping his hands wildly, his typical go-to for "shaking" the overwhelming feelings out (usually negative ones). Good feelings were accompanied by running his hand over smooth surfaces or clothes, occasionally making throaty, breathy hums which Anders can never stop himself from blushing at. Fenris sure isn't running his hands over his sword or armor now, but he isn't flapping his hands either.

As soon as Anders turns around, Fenris' wheeze grows labored with the sudden pain of his own fist dug sharply beneath his rib.

"Fenris!"

The elf turns towards him, eyes wide and pained. He doesn't respond, just turns away and hits himself again, a look of frustration on his face.

Anders quickly makes his way over, careful not to touch Fenris, even if he wants to put his arms around him and hold him until this is over. Until he forgets. "Fenris, please don't hurt yourself. We'll find another way-"

"Another way?" The volume is too great, reverberating off the old stone. "And what other way is there, _mage_? I will always be hunted. I will always be a-" He chokes here as another punch lands to his side. Anders flinches. "I will always be this ruined thing."

"You aren't. You heard her, Fenris, you have a _sister._ This is wonderful news!"

Now his voice is too quiet. "A sister… And what to show for it? Will she even want me, strange and mindless like I am?" A cold laugh sits in the base of Fenris' throat. "Or will she be tainted like Hadriana, like- like Danarius?"

Another punch, another flinch. 

"She won't be." There is no way for him to tell the truth. He doesn't know the girl, doesn't know if he ever will. He moves to meet Fenris' eyes and the elf stares back intensely. "Fenris, she won't be."

"She won't be," he echoes. He's still now, blessedly, and his hands fall to his sides awkwardly. No, not awkwardly. Dangerously. "Won't she be? If Danarius has made this of me, then what could any magister have made of her, free woman or not? What has magic touched that it does not spoil?"

"You." The others can only be answered in half-lies. This, at least, Anders knows to be true. "You, love."

Fenris doesn't respond. He just stares, suddenly, at the ground. His mouth is slightly open and his breathing is heavy, though quiet.

"Fenris?" Now Anders risks holding a hand out.

It takes a moment, a long one, before Fenris grabs it and places it on his shoulder, his clawed fingers surprisingly gentle around Anders' wrist. "We should move on," he says. "We have lingered here too long already."

"Of course. We'll go check on that girl at Hawke's estate, be sure they take good care of her, and then we'll head home for a bath. Does that sound good to you?"

A deep breath. A sigh. Finally, Fenris nods. "Yes, _carus_ , that sounds good." 

Anders can almost see the way he bites his tongue, fighting the urge to repetitively murmur, _good, good, sounds good, sounds good,_ in that way he does when they're alone and he's comfortable in his complexities. Comfortable with Anders. To see him fight that now breaks Anders' heart, but there's little to be done until they get home.

Before he can wave them over, Fenris shouts for their friends, who lurch over and follow Fenris through the winding maze. The structures are Dwarven, Anders thinks, not unlike the Deep Roads in quality of stone and numbing of direction, but Fenris leads them out adeptly, as if he's got a hidden compass in his mind leading him towards the surface.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading 💖


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